


Subconscious Perdition

by saltyfirefly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 14, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Djinni & Genies, Dreamwalking, M/M, POV Sam Winchester on Castiel/Dean Winchester, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:29:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyfirefly/pseuds/saltyfirefly
Summary: “These aren’t Dean’s thoughts, are they?” Sam asked.“No,” Castiel said. “They’re memories.”---Dean has been affected by a djinn, and the hunter is trapped in his own head. Sam and Castiel enter his mind to try and break him free of the spell, and unexpected secrets are revealed.





	Subconscious Perdition

**Author's Note:**

> I saw something on Tumblr or maybe Instagram that inspired this, but I can't remember what it was...oops...

The world faded to a misty grey once again before shifting into a new setting. Sam blinked as the fog cleared, revealing two figures standing in front of the Impala, parked in an empty field. The sun had long set, but the moon perfectly illuminated the scene in front of them.

_“I missed you,” Dean was saying, pulling Castiel into a hug. The dream versions of the hunter and the angel were oblivious to the intruders. Dean drew back slightly, cupping one hand under the angel’s stubbled jaw. _

_“Never do that again, Cas,” he breathed._

The hazy figure of Dean in front of them pulled Castiel in for a lingering kiss. Sam turned to the angel next to him, standing stoic as he watched the scene unfold.

“What the—?” Sam said.

“We should move on,” the real Castiel said quietly, lightly gripping Sam under the elbow. Sam couldn’t turn away from the scene of his brother making out with his best friend. He was too shocked to be disgusted at witnessing his brother’s intimate thoughts.

“But—” Sam spluttered.

“Sam,” Cas intoned, with a tug on his arm, and the fog reappeared. The scene changed to an innocuous view of the bunker’s library. Another version of Dean sat at one of the tables, eating a sandwich as another Sam explained something, gesturing excitedly at his computer screen.

“This isn’t what we seek either,” Castiel mused, and he started to reach for Sam again.

“Cas, wait—”

But the world shifted again and now Sam was watching a younger version of Dean and himself arguing over what snacks were best for movie-viewing.

“I remember this,” Sam said, realization dawning on him.

A Bobby with hardly any grey in his hair called the younger Sam and Dean ‘idjits,’ then told them to just pick a damn movie already. Sam barely registered the slight touch of Castiel’s hand on his sleeve as the angel pulled them into yet another facet of Dean’s mind.

Sam watched as the child-version of him handed Dean a newspaper-wrapped gift. The preteen Dean tried to protest that the present was for their dad. Sam turned away from the boys, stepping back so that Castiel couldn’t drag him away again.

“These aren’t Dean’s thoughts, are they?” he asked.

“No,” Castiel said. “They’re memories.”

“All of them?”

“Yes,” Castiel answered, reaching for Sam. In the split second before the fog descended once more, he caught the sadness in Castiel’s eyes.

*****

The next scene was blurrier than the previous ones. Each of Dean’s other memories had been too bright, the images too shiny around the edges, but this one was different. The world had a muted tinge to it, and everything was slightly distorted, like Sam was looking up through a puddle of water.

_“Stop this,” Dean’s reflection said. _

_The tuxedoed man on the other side of the mirror smirked. _

_“No,” he said, with Dean’s voice. _

Sam heard himself gasp as Michael punched the mirror, and Castiel dragged them both out of the memory.

“We were getting close,” Castiel said, disappointed. They both watched as Dean raked leaves outside of the home he had briefly shared with Lisa Braeden.

“Cas, wait,” Sam insisted. “The memory with you—”

“It is not of import,” Castiel replied, tugging once more at Sam’s arm. As the fog swirled around him once more, Sam struggled a bit with the angel guiding him. The world materialized on a new memory.

Dean was sleeping fitfully in a motel room. The Sam in his memory was snoring slightly, unaware of his brother’s distress. Dean muttered something unintelligible. An angel in a trench coat suddenly appeared, sitting next to Dean on the bed. Sam expected this Castiel to place two fingers on his brother’s forehead, easing the nightmare away, but he didn’t.

Sam watched as Castiel gently laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, murmuring something in Enochian. Dean’s eyes fluttered open briefly. He smiled, grabbed Castiel’s hand, and closed his eyes once more.

_“Stay with me,” he whispered, just as Castiel started to pull away. Castiel didn’t answer, he just returned the grasp Dean had on his hand, slowly rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. Across the motel room, Sam slept on, oblivious. _

*****

“I don’t think this is working the way that we had hoped,” Castiel said, as he watched the memory of a very drunk Dean singing karaoke at a dive bar.

“You think?” Sam asked, scoffing. Castiel shot him a curious glance, before he realized that Sam was being sarcastic.

“It seems as though Dean’s subconscious is deeply repressing the memories we need. That, or the djinn’s spell was more powerful than we thought.”

“Can we go deeper? Into his memories?” Sam asked.

“We can try,” Castiel said, frowning slightly. “Concentrate on something you know Dean would rather forget.”

“Alright,” Sam said, shutting his eyes and racking his brain. When he opened his eyes again, Dean was kneeling in a room full of dead men, splattered with their blood. Memory-Sam was begging Dean to tell him that he didn’t have a choice.

_“I didn’t mean to,” Dean said, numbly._

Castiel gripped Sam’s arm again, and he closed his eyes again, concentrating on another memory. He opened his eyes to the sight of Castiel being stabbed in the back by Lucifer. Of his grace burning out. Of Dean screaming. Mary punching Lucifer. The two of them being pulled through the portal to Apocalypse World.

Sam screwed his eyes shut for a few seconds, and the scene changed to day. Dean was praying for Castiel to return. Punching an innocent sign into bits as his prayer went unanswered. Sobbing.

“Sam, I—I can’t watch this,” Castiel said quietly, his normally composed voice breaking. Sam nodded, and the grey fog changed day to night.

Sam watched again as he and Dean were reunited with Castiel, and the memory of the angel explained how he had annoyed a primordial being into returning him to Earth. Sam repeated his earlier actions, willing himself and Castiel into the memory of Team Will 2.0 in their cowboy-themed motel room. He watched, idly, as Jack woke Dean from a deep sleep and Dean briefly pointed a gun at him. Sam chuckled, finding it funny now that he knew how this had played out. The scene changed again, and Sam tried not to laugh harder at the sight of Castiel in a straw cowboy hat.

_“Remember that movie I made you watch?” Dean said._

_“‘I’m your Huckleberry,’” Castiel quoted._

Just as Sam was wondering why the memories were threading along with a theme, the scened shifted yet again.

“Oh my God,” Sam yelped, clapping a hand over his eyes. When he uncovered his face, Dean, unfortunately, was still naked. He was, however, fully under the sheets and Cas was lying next to him, not on top of him. Cas played with Dean’s hair as the man slept peacefully.

“I can’t watch this,” Sam said, echoing Castiel’s words from earlier, but he said them for an entirely different reason. Castiel obliged him, dragging them into a memory of himself, Dean, Castiel, and Bobby, in the booth of a diner.

_“I asked for a computer,” Bobby growled, tapping futilely at the tablet. _

“We’re regressing,” Castiel said, frowning down at the memory of his past self. “I think we were on the right track, earlier.”

Sam groaned.

“Please, Sam. This is important,” Castiel said.

“Fine,” Sam said, and allowed Castiel to pull them to another of Dean’s deeply-buried memories. Thankfully, this time when the fog cleared, it was just of Dean and Benny chopping off vampire heads. Blood and gore, but mercifully no nudity.

“Purgatory?” Sam asked, and Castiel nodded in confirmation. Another recollection surfaced, of Dean reuniting with Castiel. The real-life Castiel didn’t seem to want to watch this moment unfold completely, and he took them to another memory from Purgatory.

_Benny was whistling as he ganked nameless creatures, splattering their insides on the scaly bark of pine trees. Another shift of memories, and Castiel was leaning against a gore-free tree trunk as the moon shone down. Dean was sleeping, his head resting on Castiel’s lap. Benny slumbered, unperturbed, several feet away from them. _

“Cas?” Sam asked, hesitant. The angel tore his gaze away from the sight in front of him.

“Yes, Sam?”

“All this time…?” he started, but then Sam trailed off, not sure what to say.

“I have loved Dean from the moment I rescued him from hell,” Castiel said, gaze unwavering.

*****

Sam blinked at the sudden brightness of reality. He was back in the bunker, sitting in a chair near Dean’s bed. His brother laid unconscious, unmoving, unaware of what was going on around him. Castiel was standing near the foot of Dean’s bed, near a concerned-looking Mary.

“Cas? Why’re we back?” Sam asked.

“We weren’t getting anywhere,” Castiel said.

“Really? ‘Cause I sure learned a thing or two—”

“We are nowhere closer to freeing Dean from the djinn’s spell,” Castiel interrupted. “I thought we should take a break.”

“It’s a good thing you did. I think we’ve found something,” Mary said.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“You said you thought the djinn trapped Dean in one of his memories?” Mary asked, speaking directly to Castiel.

“Yes. We can’t seem to find the right one, though.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Mary sighed, sitting down on the edge of Dean’s bed.

“Mom? What did you find?”

“The Men of Letters archives have records of djinn that instead of creating a fantasy world, they trap people inside their memories. Either ones that they fear, or the ones that they love, or sometimes both, depending on the type of djinn. And these are no ordinary monsters, either. It takes a powerful djinn to do this. And it’s even trickier to break their spell.”

“But it’s possible?” Sam asked, daring to hope.

“Yes, but there aren’t many cases where the person affected was able to break free on their own. The Men of Letters didn’t have an angel to help them—they used some kind of spell—but in every case, it seems the memory used to trap the victim was an incredibly…profound,” Mary explained.

A sudden thought struck Sam.

“Hey Cas?”

“Yes?”

“That thing you told me—after that last memory we saw? Did you ever—Does Dean know that?” Sam asked, stumbling through the words. He hoped that Castiel would understand, without revealing something to Mary that would be uncomfortable for Dean.

Castiel titled his head with a slight squint of his eyes, but he seemed to get what Sam meant. “He’s never expressly said so, but yes, I believe he does.”

“And does Dean—is it the same? For him, I mean?”

Mary’s eyes flicked from her youngest son to the angel like she was watching a ping-pong match. Sam could tell that she was refraining from saying anything, her curiosity at their ambiguous sentences preventing her from interrupting their conversation.

“I don’t know,” Castiel admitted. “Sam, why are you asking all of this?”

“Mom said the memories would be ‘profound.’ That remind you of anything?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Look, I just—I have an idea, okay? About how to get Dean to snap out of it. Can you trust me on this?”

“Of course, Sam,” the angel acquiesced.

“Wait,” Mary cautioned. She waited until both Sam and Castiel were looking at her before she said her piece. “When you find the right memory…Dean will be stuck in it. Like it’s playing on a loop. You’ve got to do something to shock him out of the loop. It’s different for every person, but there’s always something that triggers their consciousness enough to make them realize they’re in a dream. You’ve got to keep going until Dean realizes, or else he’ll be stuck there forever.”

“We’ll get him back, Mom,” Sam said softly, reaching over to briefly squeeze her hand in reassurance.

“Just be careful? Both of you?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

“Yeah, of course,” Sam said, nodding.

“I will get your son back,” Castiel swore. Without waiting for a response, he placed on hand on Dean’s temple, and the other on Sam’s shoulder. The world went black.

*****

“Concentrate,” Castiel’s voice said, though Sam couldn’t see anything through the darkness that surrounding him. “Guide us to where you want to go.”

_I can’t,_ Sam thought, panicking at his unknowing surroundings.

“Yes, you can. You know your brother better than you realize. Trust yourself, Sam.”

Even though Sam wasn’t sure he had a corporeal body at the moment, he took a deep breath in to steady himself. Immediately he felt like he had more control than he had a moment before. Sam thought back through his own memories, recalling the moment he wanted to show Castiel. He was grateful that this was one of Dean’s memories too. Slowly, the darkness faded into the distant memory.

_“…I pray to Castiel, to get his feathery ass down here,” Dean said._

“This is what you wanted to show me?” the real Castiel said, as they watched the younger versions of the brothers bicker.

“Shh,” Sam said, as an earlier Castiel materialized and Sam’s younger, soulless self confronted him.

_“So, what, you like him better or something?” Sam asked._

_“Dean and I do share a more profound bond,” Castiel said. He shot a look at Dean. “I wasn’t going to mention it.”_

The scene continued to play, but the sounds were muffled, like someone had put them on mute. Sam’s eyes widened for a moment, worried that something was wrong. He turned to Castiel, and Sam realized that the angel must have done something so that he and Sam could speak without interrupting the memory playing before them.

“I see now,” Castiel said.

“I thought we could watch a highlight reel of Dean and Cas’ greatest hits,” Sam said, with a shrug of his shoulders.

“By that, I assume you are suggesting that we go through some of the memories that Dean shares with me, since we have a ‘profound bond,’” Castiel replied, complete with air quotes.

“You don’t ever change, do you?” Sam asked, gesturing to the memory-Castiel who had just used air quotes as well. The real Castiel bit his lower lip, and with no warning, clutched Sam’s arm and propelled them into another of Dean’s memories.

_Dean was on the side of a road, staring in shock and gratitude at Castiel._

_“We had an appointment,” he intoned. The orange light of the street lamp behind him gave Castiel the illusion that he was wearing a halo._

_“Don’t ever change, Cas,” Dean said, and the light in his eyes was something more than what the moon or street light provided. _

“Hmm. Perhaps…” the real Castiel muttered, to no one in particular. Fog descended.

_“It’s a gift,” Dean said, arm extended, offering the cassette tape. “You keep those.” _

The world shifted.

They stood on a bridge, watching as Castiel stabbed a reaper in the back, and then he defended what he had done to the incredulous Winchesters. Billie’s cosmic consequences be damned. Then the world shifted again, abruptly, like Castiel couldn’t make up his mind as to where to take them.

_Castiel held a hand to the blood seeping through his abdomen, declaring his love to the three Winchesters before him. His eyes lingered on Dean as he said “I love you.”_

“Cas?” Sam said, voice nearly a whisper. The angel turned to him, frustration and hurt clear in his eyes. “Maybe it has to be something Dean did.”

Castiel nodded, and the scene changed again.

_“Cas…Cas…I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me, Cas. It’s me,” Dean said, through a bruised mouth and with a puffy, bleeding face. Castiel stood before him, glancing down dispassionately with his blade raised. _

_“We’re family—We need you. I need you,” Dean said, voice growing weaker. Something flared in Castiel’s eyes, and they lost focus, like Castiel’s mind was elsewhere. Then Castiel dropped his blade. _

“Farther back?” Sam suggested.

A memory of Castiel surfaced, letting go of Dean’s hand and forcing him to go through the portal out of Purgatory without the angel. Sam blinked. Dean watched from the top of a hill as Castiel smote demons in front of a mental institution with the touch of his hand. Sam blinked again. Dean folded up a damp trench coat and put it carefully in the Impala’s trunk. Another blink. Castiel was slumped on the floor in agony as Leviathan burned through his vessel. He spoke to Dean of forgiveness. Sam blinked, almost unwillingly. Castiel burst into billions of pieces. Sam watched a twenty-something version of himself fall into a never-ending hole in the ground. He tried not to blink, but couldn’t help it. Dean was arguing with someone that looked just like him, accusing the man of leading his friends and Cas to slaughter. Another blink, another scene.

_“I’m warning you,” an angel said. “Do not leave me here. I will find you.”_

_“Maybe one day. But today, you’re my little bitch,” Castiel said, before sweeping from the room. _

_“What he said.” Dean followed Castiel out the door of the abandoned house into the rain._

“Wait, Cas—When was this?” Sam said, interrupting the angel from taking them into another memory.

“Several years ago, Dean and I trapped the archangel Raphael—” Castiel started to explain.

“Where was I?” Sam interrupted.

“Oklahoma, I think. Dean said you were ‘taking separate vacations.’”

“Oh,” Sam said, remembering the brief time after the apocalypse began that he had tried to stop hunting. “What else did the two of you get up to?”

Sam wasn’t aware he’d said the last part aloud, but he must have, because the memory shifted again.

_Dean and Castiel were got into the Impala. Music thumped from the building behind them._

_“Sorry it didn’t work out, man,” Dean said. _

_“That’s alright. I don’t think it was a good idea anyways.”_

_“What’re you talking about? Cas, I told you I wasn’t going to let you die a virgin. So that one chick didn’t work out. We’ll find you someone else.”_

_“Dean, are you forgetting that I have technically already died?”_

_Dean waved a hand in dismissal. “Whatever. Let’s get you laid before you die again, okay?”_

_Castiel squirmed slightly in the passenger seat, clearly uncomfortable._

_“What is it? You’re not still hung up over the whole iniquity thing, are you?” _

_“No,” Castiel said, pointedly looking at his hands. _

_“Is it—Is it Jimmy? Your vessel?”_

_“No, Jimmy is dead.”_

_“Do what now?”_

_“His soul was returned to Heaven when Raphael smote me. I was reassembled, and given a vessel which resembled Jimmy’s likeness, but he is gone.”_

_“So…it’s just you in there?”_

_“That is correct.” _

_“Then what’s the problem?”_

_Despite the darkness, Castiel very obviously blushed. _

_“Cas?”_

_“If I am to lose my virginity, I do not want it to be to a random stranger.”_

_“Oh. Makes sense.”_

_“The problem is, I don’t know many humans.”_

_“We don’t have to find you a girl if you don’t want, Cas. It’s okay.”_

_“Why do you keep saying ‘girl,’ Dean?”_

_“Wait, are you saying you’re into dudes?”_

_“Technically I possess no gender, Dean, and therefore no sexual orientation. I was under the impression that humans could lose their virginity to a person of either sex, regardless of their own.” _

_“You ain’t wrong,” Dean muttered. _

_There was silence for a few moments. _

_“You know…I’m not a stranger,” Dean said, hesitantly._

_“I thought you preferred women.”_

_“Yeah, well, like you said, Cas, you’re genderless, or whatever.”_

_“Dean, are you…propositioning me?”_

_“God, Cas, don’t say it like that,” Dean complained. _

_“But you _are_ offering to have sexual intercourse with me?”_

_“That’s not any better,” Dean said, cringing._

_“I don’t understand, then.”_

_“I’m saying—if you don’t want to die a virgin…I’m here. If you—if you want me.”_

_“Yes. I think I would like that,” Castiel said. _

The scene changed again, to an abandoned house.

_Dean pulled Castiel close to him, a little unsure, and leaned in to kiss him. Castiel hesitated, then returned the kiss with a fervor, spinning Dean around and pinning him to the wall. _

“Whoa!” Sam said, and to his immense relief, the scene froze, like someone had pressed ‘pause’ on the whole thing.

“You don’t wish to witness this?” the real Castiel asked, correctly interpreting Sam’s discomfort.

“Nope. Walking in on my brother having sex once is far too many times. I don’t need to see him do it through one of his memories, either.”

“That is understandable,” Castiel said. “But what if this is the memory that we seek?”

Sam made a face. “Do I have to watch it?”

“I suppose not,” Castiel said, reaching up to touch two fingers to Sam’s forehead. He was blissfully unaware for an indeterminate amount of time, before he came back to himself and refocused on the scene in front of him.

_“Dean, I—Thank you,” memory-Castiel said, pulling his suit jacket back on. _

_“Anytime,” Dean smirked, doing up the laces of one of his boots. _

The scene shifted again. Sam watched as Dean and Bobby discussed the merits of summoning the ‘big bad’ to the barn they were in. Every inch of the place was covered in sigils from every faith Sam knew about.

“What—?” he started.

“That wasn’t the correct memory,” Castiel said. “But I sense that we are getting close.”

Sam patiently observed as Dean and Bobby waited for whatever it was to show up. When Castiel entered the barn, sparks flying, Sam’s breath was taken away. He had heard what happened from Dean, but seeing it was a whole other thing altogether.

_“Who are you?” Dean barked._

_“I’m the one who gripped you tight, and raised you from perdition.”_

_“Yeah? Thanks for that,” Dean said, before plunging the demon blade into Castiel’s chest. The angel removed the blade without even a twinge of pain. _

“Wait, Cas?”

“Yes, Sam?” Castiel asked, not taking his eyes off the memory of Dean.

“This is when Dean said he first met you, right?”

“That is correct.”

“But what about before this?”

“Before?” Castiel repeated.

“Yeah. You know, the actual raising-from-perdition part?” Sam prompted.

Castiel paused before he spoke. “I don’t know if Dean remembers that.”

“But he has to, right? Unless you wiped it from his mind,” Sam said.

“I didn’t.”

“Well then? Let’s go,” Sam said. Castiel met his gaze, placed a hand on his arm, and they were whisked away into another recess of Dean’s mind.

*****

_Red. _

_White._

_Red. _

_White. _

_Pain._

_Screams. _

_Flashes of light. _

_The tang of blood. _

_The stink of sulphur. _

_Red. _

_White. _

_Red. _

_White. _

_The memories flickered, disjointed, as if Dean’s mind couldn’t connect them properly. Like he couldn’t fully comprehend what he was seeing. He couldn’t feel like he normally did. Everything was raw. Every nerve was frayed. He was in hell; they probably actually were. It was like Dean was in pieces, broken beyond recognition. He couldn’t recognize what he had become. Surely he wasn’t fully a man anymore. Any spark of hope he had ever possessed was gone. There was only red. Until there wasn’t. _

_When the white light surrounded him at first, Dean resisted. It was too bright, too pure for him to be near. How could it want to touch him, let alone heal him? He wasn’t worth that. He was dirty, corrupted. Shattered into a million little pieces. Yet something was putting the pieces back together, smoothing over the scars on his body and in his mind, erasing the physical horrors of his mortal life. The white light surrounded him, enveloped him, became a part of him. The stain of his crossroads deal was wiped clean. A touch, light as a feather, brushed over him, and the crimes of his stint in hell were forgiven. Dean felt whole again. _

_Somewhere in the plane between existing and not, Dean’s brain was able to finally comprehend what he saw and what he felt. The bright light was still swirling around him. He couldn’t see its face, but Dean wasn’t afraid. He felt only love. It was like the stars had come down from the sky and were embracing him, protecting him from the darkness and the red rage he had known for so long. Dean only noticed the weight on his shoulder when it was lifted away. The spot tingled, in a hint of a pleasant burn. Somewhere a voice rang out, beautiful and ethereal. By some miracle, Dean understood the words. _

** _Dean Winchester is saved!_ **

*****

Sam witnessed the memory Castiel pulling Dean from hell twice before he was finally able to speak.

“How do we shake him away from this?” he whispered.

“I…don’t know,” Castiel said, sounding lost.

After the third time he heard _Dean Winchester is saved!_ Sam had an idea. He couldn’t tell Cas in time, though. By the time Sam had heard that Dean was saved a fourth time, the angel understood. By the fifth, they had a plan. When the words came a sixth time, Sam and Castiel sprang into action.

Each time, Dean’s memory had continued to play until he had pulled himself out of his own grave. He looked around at the fallen trees around him, but within seconds, the memory reset to Dean back in hell. When he found himself under the sun, Sam was too stunned to move at first. Castiel was prepared, though. He leapt forward and grabbed Dean by the shoulder.

“Dean!” he cried, but before Castiel could say more, they were plunged into darkness once again.

_Dean Winchester is saved! _they heard, for a seventh time.

This time, when Castiel laid a hand on Dean, he spun him around so that Dean’s back was pressed into Castiel’s chest. The angel’s arm wrapped across Dean, holding him close as he gripped his shoulder.

_"Dean, stop!" Castiel begged, holding the hunter to him. Dean's clothes were stained redder than the hair of the woman he had just brutally avenged._

“Dean!” Castiel called, face right near the hunter’s ear.

_"It's over," Castiel said, in both reassurance and an order. His eyes flared with grace as Dean's shone black as his twisted soul._

Dean’s eyes went in and out of focus for a moment. In the blink of an eye, Dean morphed from the younger version of his memory to his current age. Only his clothes remained the same as he stood next to the empty grave.

“Cas?” he asked, utterly confused.

“I’m here, Dean,” the angel said.

“But—I don’t understand—”

“Dean,” Sam said, stepping forward. His brother’s head snapped forwards, and he stared at Sam with wide eyes.

“Sammy? What’s going on?” Dean asked. “Cas, I don’t remember this.”

“This isn’t part of your memory,” Cas said gently.

“Then—what—?”

“You were attacked by a djinn,” Sam explained.

“You’re trapped in your own mind,” Castiel added.

“No. No, that’s impossible,” Dean protested.

“_Dean. _Think. You know what’s real,” Castiel insisted.

“How are you here?”

“Angel mojo,” Sam said.

“Okay, great. Can you mojo me out?”

“No. You have to break the spell yourself,” Cas said.

“I don’t know how,” Dean whispered.

“You have to fight,” Sam said, reaching out to put a hand on the shoulder Castiel wasn’t still holding. “We need you, Dean. You have to fight. Come back to us, please.”

Dean closed his eyes, trying desperately to concentrate. The world around them shimmered, like it was struggling to change even though Dean was willing it to stay. Whispers flew through the air. Moments from Dean’s memories. Bleak words from dark times.

_“I’m proud of us.”_

_“Sammy! Somebody—help me!”_

_“I hate you. I **hate** you. But I love you.” _

_“Dad, you’re scarin’ me.”_

_“I’m going to take care of you! I gotcha. It’s my job, right, watch after my pain-in-the-ass little brother.”_

_“I need you.”_

_“I guess that’s what I do, I let down the people I love…I guess now I’m supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that?”_

_"I failed you, like I failed every other godforsaken thing I care about."_

_"You're going to die, and this? **This** is what you're going to become."_

_“I’m nothing.”_

_"I don't matter." _

_“I’m poison.”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_“If we go down, then we go down swingin’.” _

_“Sammy, I’m sorry.”_

_“Destiny? Don’t give me that holy crap.”_

_“There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.”_

_“You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don’t.”_

_“I need you.”_

_“Something is broken in you.”_

_“I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing.”_

_“I’m good. Hell, I’m great.”_

_“Just let it go.” _

_“You act like I **wanna** be saved.”_

_"And I don't deserve to go to hell!"_

_“I need you.”_

_“I’m not leaving here without you.”_

_“Don’t be dead, please, for me.”_

_“I’d rather have you, cursed or not.” _

_“We need you. **I** need you.”_

Dean’s eyes popped open. The barrage of memories continued to whirl around them, but the ghosts of Dean’s words were distorted, distant against the sound of a rushing wind.

“Come back to us,” Sam repeated. Dean’s right arm gripped his shoulder in an attempt to ground himself.

“I…” But Dean couldn’t get the words out. He screwed his eyes shut, like he was fighting to concentrate on something.

“Come _home_,” Sam said, voice soft, but he knew Dean could hear. His brother turned, pulling away from Cas just enough to look him in the eyes. He cupped a hand under Castiel’s stubbled jaw, lifting it just enough for their lips to meet. Cas leaned into the kiss, and for a brief moment, the world froze. The wind stopped. At first, the only sound Sam could hear was the beating of his own heart. Then there was a sound like glass shattering, a blazing blue light, and then there was nothing. 

*****

Dean sat upwards with a deep gasp, like he was a drowning man drawing in a life-saving breath. His chest heaved and his eyes roamed wildly as he took in the sight in front of him. Mary, anxious, looking like she wanted to leap forward and embrace him. Castiel, who was regarding Dean with a look of deep concern. And Sam, who supposed he must be looking like a lost puppy right now. That’s what Dean would say, anyways.

“Am I back in Kansas?” Dean asked, voice hoarse. Mary broke into a broad grin.

“That’s right, Dorothy,” Sam quipped, resisting the urge to laugh. He half-expected Castiel to make a comment before he remembered that Cas understood most references like that now.

“So that was…real?” Dean asked, trepidation clear in his features.

“You mean the djinn? Yeah, that really happened,” Sam said.

“And did you…see…all of that?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘all of that,’” Sam said, sitting back and crossing his arms. He raised one eyebrow, inviting Dean to speak.

“You were in my head,” Dean hedged.

“Yeah, me and Cas were,” Sam offered.

“And what—_exactly_—did you see?”

“Bits and pieces.”

“We had to sift through your memories for a time before we finally found the one you were trapped in,” Castiel said, supplying more helpful information than Sam had.

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Most of it I knew already,” Sam said, smirking, with a pointed glance towards Castiel.

“_Most_ of it?” Dean repeated, panic in his eyes.

“I can wipe Sam’s memory if necessary,” Cas offered.

“No, that’s okay, Cas,” Sam said quickly.

“Well—” Dean started.

“No,” Sam said more firmly. “Don’t worry, Dean. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“Secrets?” Mary asked. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” Sam said, and Dean threw him a brief grateful glance.

“Just—promise me it’s nothing to do with Michael,” Mary said, matter-of-factly.

“No, none of it was about him,” Sam reassured her.

“Good,” their mother said, before getting up. “You hungry, Dean? I can make you something, if you want.”

“Really?”

“You’ve been knocked out for hours. BLT?” she suggested.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“No problem. Sam?”

“Yes, please.”

Mary smiled at her boys before leaving the room. The second she was out of sight and the door was closed, Dean rounded on his brother.

“What _exactly _did you see, Sam?” he demanded.

“Too freaking much,” Sam answered.

“And by that you mean…?”

“I mean please, for the love of God, lock your door anytime Cas stays the night.”

“We already do,” Castiel said.

“Wait—”

“Any chance you can soundproof it, too?” Sam asked the angel.

“I already have,” he said.

“Oh, is that why no one has noticed anything so far?”

“Wait! Hold up,” Dean said, swinging his legs off the bed so he could face Sam and Castiel. “Sam, I repeat, what _exactly_—”

“I heard you the first time,” Sam interrupted.

“And?”

“And I know you two are a thing, or whatever.”

Dean sat there, speechless, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

“Look, I don’t really need to know details, okay?” Sam said. “Just—if you’re happy, Dean, then I’m happy for you. I’ll keep your secret if that’s what you want. I just need to know one thing.”

“Why we didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, managing to look both grumpy and sheepish at the same time.

“Dean, if you were worried that I wouldn’t understand, or that I’d be weirded out or whatever—”

“It’s not that, Sammy.”

“Then what is it?”

“I was afraid,” Dean said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of what people would think? Of what I would think?”

“No. I was afraid that if this was real, and I lost him, again—” Dean’s words were choked off, and Sam was startled to see that his brother was close to tears.

“You mean you two aren’t _official_?” Sam said, not bothering to keep his voice down. “I mean seriously, Dean, the guy raises you from perdition, you literally go through hell together, and after all the crap you put each other through, you still end up back together? What’s wrong with you? Dean, if I had someone like that—I’d tell them I loved them every day.”

“It’s complicated, Sammy—”

“It’s really not.”

“Sam. If Dean doesn’t want to make things ‘official,’ as you say, then I will not pressure him. I don’t see how it’s your place to pressure him either. This is his choice,” Castiel said, cutting across the burgeoning argument between the brothers, and Sam relented.

“Yeah, okay. Sure, Cas.”

“That a good enough answer for you, Sam?”

“What? Oh, right,” Sam said, remembering what he’d said earlier. “That’s not what I wanted to know.”

“It’s not?” Dean asked, blinking in confusion.

“No. Your reasons for keeping it a secret are your own. Cas is right, I shouldn’t have pried. I mean, I’ve thought for a long time that maybe you two had a thing for each other, but like I said, I figured you had a reason for not saying anything to me. I thought you’d say something eventually when you were ready.”

“Then what did you want to know?” Castiel asked, ignoring the indignant spluttering that was all Dean could voice.

“Did you really take Cas’ virginity?” Sam asked his brother. Dean turned bright red, and he had to clear his throat before he answered.

“Yeah. So?”

“Just curious,” Sam said, before he broke out laughing.

*****

Sam left Dean and Castiel alone after that. He said nothing over the next couple weeks. If he noticed how Cas mysteriously disappeared after Dean went to bed, he chose not to mention it. If he noticed that the shower room was inexplicably locked, with Dean and Cas nowhere to be found, he said nothing. If Sam noticed that Dean winced slightly when sitting down in a wooden chair, he immediately tried to put it out of his mind. If the Impala was inexplicably gone from the garage for a few hours, and Dean and Cas along with it, Sam said nothing. He wordlessly handed Dean a bottle of bleach the next time he saw his brother, and walked on without further comment, but he still didn’t say anything. It was surprisingly easier to keep silent than he thought it would be.

A few weeks after Dean had been cursed by the djinn, the Winchesters found themselves on a case gone wrong. A werewolf pack had managed to ambush them, and subsequently they found themselves stuck in an abandoned warehouse—of _course_ it was a warehouse, why did monsters always pick an abandoned warehouse?—and they had each been bound to a chair. Sam tried to pull at the ropes binding his wrists behind him, to no avail. A quick glance to his left told him that Mary and Bobby weren’t having any luck either.

“You know,” a female lycanthrope purred, “this doesn’t have to end badly.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked defiantly, as the werewolf straddled him.

“One bite, baby, and you’re mine,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I ain’t interested,” Dean drawled.

“You sure?” she said, nuzzling her nose against Dean’s cheek.

“I’m sure.”

“You got a special someone?” she asked coyly, drawing back to meet his eyes.

“That I do,” he smirked.

“Oh? I bet I can make you forget all about her.”

Dean laughed. “Not likely. See, my heart belongs to an angel.”

And the idiot actually winked at the werewolf.

“What—?” she started to say, before the warehouse door blew open with a bang. The werewolf whipped her head around, her suddenly canine teeth bared in a snarl. She rushed towards the intruder, only to be blasted to the side. With a wave of his hand, Castiel freed the hunters from their bonds. The five of them made quick work of the werewolf pack, except for the female that had come on to Dean earlier.

“See? I told you the truth,” Dean told her, right before Castiel burned her brains out.

“Damn, that was hot,” Dean said, eyes only for his angel. Castiel smirked.

Sam coughed, trying to get their attention. But Dean either didn’t hear him, or he ignored him outright. He lunged forward, gripping the lapels of Castiel’s trench coat tightly, and pulled him into a kiss that more than lingered. One of Castiel’s arms wrapped around Dean’s waist, the other at the back of his neck, and he spun Dean around, backing him into a pillar. Castiel kissed Dean once, twice, three times before finally pulling back to speak.

“Will there ever come a day when you don’t recklessly put yourself in danger?” Castiel growled. Dean shrugged, a flirtatious twinkle in his eyes.

“What the _hell_?” Bobby said, unable to hold his silence.

Dean peered around Castiel, his confident expression unwavering.

“What’s the matter? You never seen people kiss before?” he asked defiantly.

“You two idjits realize that we’ve got a mess of bodies to clean up, right? You can act like teenagers at the prom later,” Bobby grumped. Castiel rolled his eyes, waved a hand again, and the dead werewolves were gone.

“We should…go…” Sam said, tugging at Mary’s sleeve.

“Okay…” she said, following her younger son. Bobby hurried after them. Just before Sam closed the warehouse door, he saw Castiel lean in again to kiss Dean. Even though the Dean’s eyes were closed, his expression was of pure bliss.

*****

“How long have they been a thing?” Mary asked.

“Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. Off and on for...ten years, maybe?” Sam hedged.

“Ten...years...” Mary repeated slowly.

“Yeah.”

“You mean to tell me that’s been goin’ on for _years _and this is the first we’re seein’ it?” Bobby said, incredulous.

“I mean, I kinda always suspected there was something, I was just never sure,” Sam admitted.

“My son is an idiot,” Mary said. “To have had that right in front of him this whole time...”

* * *

FIN


End file.
